I was sure then.
I’m even more sure now.
I’m doing this for Queenie. I’m doing this for me.
Even if my hands are shaking so badly, I have to clasp them in my lap to keep them steady.
The café Derek chose is aggressively trendy, all exposed brick and Edison bulbs, craft coffee that costs more than a meal, the kind of place where people come to be seen rather than actually to drink overpriced lattes.
Give me my usual café, The Grind, any day of the week.
It’s midday, busy enough that we won’t stand out, public enough that Derek won’t suspect a trap.
At least, that’s the theory.
I sit at a corner table near the window, my back to the wall so I can see the entire space. Nitro insisted on that detail during the briefing this morning, his voice rough with barely contained fear as he went over every possible scenario, every potential danger, every reason why this is a terrible idea and I shouldn’t do it.
But I have to.
Derek burned down a retirement village because of me.
Because I drunk dialed him in a moment of weakness.
Because I fell in love with Nitro.
Because I dared to move on and find happiness with someone who actually sees me, values me, and loves me for exactly who I am.
People died in that fire.
People whose only crime was being older, vulnerable, and in the wrong place when Derek’s arrogance and misplaced rage ignited into something monstrous.
The weight of that sits heavy in my chest, making it hard to breathe.
“You don’t have to do this,” Nitro said this morning, his hands cupping my face with devastating gentleness, his eyes,those impossibly beautiful eyes, dark with anguish. “We can find another way. Ghost can dig deeper, Maria can—”
“I want to do this,” I interrupted, covering his hands with mine. “He did this because of me. I have to help fix it.”
The fear in his expression nearly broke me. Fear for me, fear of losing me, fear that something will go wrong, and he won’t be able to protect me. But underneath that fear was something else, pride. Trust. The knowledge that I’m strong enough to face the man who tried to destroy me, to destroy us, and come out the other side.
“I’ll be right outside,” he promised, his forehead pressing against mine. “Sin, Koa, Bear… we’ll all be there. The second anything goes wrong, the second he even looks at you wrong, we’re coming in.”
I believed him then.
I believe him now.
Even though I can’t see them, I know they’re close.
Sin is parked across the street in the club’s truck, watching through the café window with predatory focus. Koa and Bear are likely scattered around the block, maintaining perimeter security. Ghost is back at the clubhouse, monitoring the wire feed, recording everything for Maria.
And Nitro?
Nitro is somewhere nearby, close enough to reach me in seconds, but far enough that Derek won’t spot him. The club decided it was too risky for him to be visible. Derek knows his face and would recognize him instantly, and the whole plan would fall apart.
But knowing he’s out there, knowing he’s listening to every word, gives me the strength I need to focus on what I must do.
The bell on the café door dings, and the door opens.
My heart slams against my ribs. Derek walks in as if he owns the place, all expensive suit and practiced confidence, his eyes scanning the space until they land on me. A smile spreads across his face, not warm, not genuine, but smug. Satisfied. Like he’s already won some game I didn’t know we were playing.
